


Blanket Dens and Comforted Souls

by Dem0nLight



Series: Universal [3]
Category: Underswap (Fandom), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: And his gf decides to snuggle, Blankets, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Paps has a bad day, blanket fort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dem0nLight/pseuds/Dem0nLight
Summary: Papyrus has always had bad days--terrible days when nothing beautiful and he really can't find the strength to like himself--but never before has he had someone to help him through them.





	

Papyrus knew it was going to be one of _those_ days the second he rolled out of bed. _Those_ days were the worst of them all: his lazy façade had no power to fool anyone regarding his mood.

To keep his bro from finding out, he had simply pretended to be asleep when he was called down for breakfast and hadn't moved until Sans had gone out to patrol, figuring his lazy brother would catch up once he realized he "overslept". Going downstairs had been a chore and he couldn't muster up the force of will to eat anything at all. He just sat on the couch, feeling miserable.

It was never a good time when he felt like this--like his Soul had a big tear in it and a black hole had formed in the hollow space inside, sucking away all energy and feeling until all that was left was a bitter husk and the faintest sense of self-loathing so that he knew he wasn't dead yet.

It was noon when Tabatha returned from her shift at Muffet's café and she picked up on the mood instantly.

"Hey Paps," she said softly. "You feeling okay?" The tall skeleton only released a heavy sigh, not even looking at his almost-girlfriend as he felt the black hole's gravity grow even stronger inside his rib cage.

"You want me to make you a blanket den?"

The question snapped Papyrus out of his daze and he looked at her in confusion.

"blanket den?" he repeated.

"It's easier to show you then to tell you. Lay down on the floor, on your front."

The lanky skeleton slid off the couch slowly and did as he was told, laying facedown on the rug. He heard Tabatha's footsteps leave the room return before he felt soft fabric descend over his body, the weight of multiple blankets and comforters settling over him. He liked this feeling, he decided. It made him feel sheltered, safer--just a bit.

"You good now?" his human asked. Papyrus searched his feelings before shaking his head.

"Okay. Scoot over."

The blanket nest was lifted off him for a moment before he felt Tabatha's warm, soft body slide in beside his own. He turned his head so he could see her as she snuggled up in the little den she had created for them.

"There we go," she proclaimed with a smile. Papyrus should have been happy --he knew he should have--but all he could feel was the darkness in his Soul. It whispered to him that garbage like him didn't deserve her honest effort. It would be so much better for her if he didn't exist. She wouldn't be inconvenienced by his mood any more, wouldn't have him depending on her affections night and day and--

"Oi, you stop that right now." Her words once again broke through to him and Papyrus wearily focused on her.

"No more if that self-depreciating stuff," she ordered. "Come here."

When he made no effort to do so, she came over to him, situating them so his skull was resting on her chest.

"Don't think," she told him. "Just feel. Just feel me breathe. Just feel my heart going."

What difference would it make? But he did it anyway, figuring it couldn't hurt. After several minutes, a deep exhaustion swept over him--the kind that came after enduring those terrible feelings for hours at a time. Tabatha's gentle words vibrating through his skull, the feel of her chest rising and falling with each breath, the warmth her body radiated and the rhythm of her pulse lured him into a trance beyond the depression, beyond the self-hate.

Papyrus let his eyesockets scroll over her face, at her serene dark eyes, at the streaks of orange and blue she had put on opposite sides of her face, at her soft, smiling lips...he took advantage of this last feature by placing his teeth against them in a kiss of gratitude. He did not have to say his thanks to know she understood; she just knew; she always knew.

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen a couple of fics where Swap Pap comforts a depressed reader and I wanted to give him a chance to be comforted instead. Plus, these blanket piles are really something I do when I'm not feeling up to life and it's really nice.


End file.
